


Guidance

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Gatchaman Crowds
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Inline with canon, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:25:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2320631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sugane doesn’t feel drunk, not really, but Jou offered to help him home, and the warm support of the older man’s arm around his shoulders made him at least as shaky from adrenaline as from alcohol." Jou takes Sugane home early from their night out. Occurs immediately after the extended finale episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guidance

“I’m sorry, Jou-san.”

Sugane’s not sure what he’s apologizing for. Maybe for drinking too much, although he hasn’t had that much, or for not having much of an alcohol tolerance, although he only just became of legal age to drink anyway. Maybe he’s apologizing for being so on-edge he can barely speak, until Jou laughed and suggested they go back to his place so Sugane can have some water and sober up. Sugane doesn’t  _feel_  drunk, not really, but Jou offered to help him home, and the warm support of the older man’s arm around his shoulders made him at least as shaky from adrenaline as from alcohol.

“It’s fine.” Jou’s turning back from the sink, tossing his hair back out of his face as he kneels next to Sugane. He’s closer than usual, on the adjacent side of the table instead of across; Sugane can feel his hand trembling as he reaches out to accept the glass, brings it to his mouth as a short-term solution to the need to speak. It should be easy to  _swallow_ , after all, but Jou’s watching him like he has been the whole night, with his shoulders angled towards Sugane and his wrist folded in to support the tilt of his head, and Sugane can’t stand to look at him directly for fear of losing what self-control he has left.

“I didn’t expect you to have as much to drink as you did,” Jou is saying. Sugane can’t tell if he’s sincere or teasing; his voice is level but his lips are curved into a smile, his eyes are dark and shadowed, and Sugane has to look away again. “Make sure you drink all of that, I don’t want you to have a headache in the morning.”

“Yeah.” Sugane’s staring at the water, balancing the glass in both his hands to counteract the tremble in his fingers. He doesn’t realize he hasn’t lifted it back to his lips, hasn’t moved at all for a minute, until there’s a chuckle and the touch of fingers closing over his.

“Here.” Jou’s hand steers Sugane’s back to the table until the weight of the glass is supported on the surface instead of in his hand. Sugane’s sure Jou’s teasing him, now, even before he looks up and sees the lopsided grin pulling wider over the other man’s mouth.

“It’s okay,” Jou’s saying, but he isn’t looking away and his hand is still lingering against Sugane’s fingers. “It’s just me.” As if there has ever been any  _just_  about Jou, as if anything about that will help to soothe Sugane’s racing pulse.

“Jou-san,” Sugane says. His voice is shaking, jumping high and pleading in his throat; Jou’s eyelashes flutter, his fingers tighten, and Sugane realizes they’re both let go of the glass, that it’s just Jou’s hand clasping his now.

“Sugane.” Jou’s voice is dark, low and heavy and purring in his throat. He’s getting closer, he’s leaning in over the edge of the table, Sugane can feel all his skin catching hot and prickling with anticipation as his spine draws stiff and panicked. He can see Jou’s eyes flicker downward, can see the older man’s throat work as he swallows and his lips part around a breath...and then Jou hesitates, goes still an inch away from Sugane’s mouth. They’re both breathing hard, Sugane can feel his own inhales sticking high in his chest and he can feel how quick Jou’s exhales are coming against his lips, and there’s no question of where Sugane wants this to go, where  _Jou_  wants this to go, but neither of them are  _moving_.

Jou swallows again, closes his mouth. Sugane can see him tipping his chin down, starting to shift back and away in a reverse of his approach, and all the tension in his body snaps into impulse.

“Wait,” he’s saying, he’s pulling at the hand still tangled with Jou’s fingers, and then Sugane’s the one leaning in instead of Jou. The edge of the table catches at his hip and his fingers are clenching too-hard at Jou’s, but then his lips touch warmth, press against Jou’s mouth, and everything else fades out. Jou makes a little whimper in the back of his throat, a high shocked sound, and then his chin comes up and his mouth slides into place and they’re  _kissing_ , Jou is  _kissing_  him. His mouth is warm, he’s pushing in harder, sliding in closer around the edge of the table, his fingers are pushing back at Sugane’s hand to urge the the blond back. Sugane’s more than willing to go, doesn’t even think to protest when the pressure tips him over so he half-falls back to the floor because then Jou’s on  _top_  of him, his hand is pinning Sugane’s down and he’s opening his mouth against the blond’s. Sugane whimpers incoherent encouragement, starts to part his lips in return, and Jou’s pulling back, drawing his mouth away and leaning back so he can stare down at the other.

“How drunk  _are_  you?”

It takes Sugane a minute to understand the question, to realize the import as well as  _why_  Jou has stopped kissing him. “I’m fine,” he blurts as soon as he’s put the pieces together, his voice spilling too-fast with desperation over his tongue. “Jou-san, I’m fine, I promise.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Jou says. He’s not moving away, he’s still so close Sugane’s heart won’t stop racing, but his eyes are dark and he’s not coming  _closer_  either, doesn’t even when Sugane tries to lean up for another kiss.

“You’re not.” Sugane’s voice is shaking, it sounds almost like a sob. “ _Please_ , Jou-san.”

“You’re trembling,” Jou points out. His fingers are tensing on Sugane’s hand, like he’s feeling out the blond’s panic against his fingertips.

Sugane’s laugh is as desperate as his tone. “Of course I am, you  _kissed_  me.”

Jou’s mouth catches into a smile; there’s a flicker of warmth in the shadow in his eyes. He’s still not moving away. “You kissed me first, I think.”

Sugane can feel his cheeks go hot. “I.” He turns his head, trying to recollect his composure, and Jou laughs, leans in close enough that his hair brushes against Sugane’s cheek.

“Sugane.” Jou’s words are warm on Sugane’s skin, the blond can feel lips almost brushing his forehead as the other speaks. “Why are you shaking?”

“I want you to kiss me,” Sugane near-sobs. He tries to turn back in but Jou pulls back again, draws away so he’s looking down at the blond. “Please, Jou-san, I  _want_  you to.”

“How drunk are you?” Jou asks again. He blinks, his eyelashes brush dark over his cheekbones, and Sugane can see his gaze drop down to the blond’s mouth. “Tell me, Sugane.”

“I’m not,” Sugane says, staring at Jou’s shadowed eyes and going breathless with hope. “I’m not drunk, Jou-san, I’m just nervous. I only had two drinks, really, I --”

“Open your mouth,” Jou orders, and Sugane’s words cut off like Jou’s controlling his vocal chords, his lips part without thinking. Jou shifts his weight, fingers brace against Sugane’s chin, his thumb slides in past the blond’s lips to press gently against his tongue. When Jou pushes Sugane opens his mouth wider; Jou leans in close, so close that for a moment Sugane thinks he’s going to kiss him again.

“You sure?” Jou asks. His breath is blowing over Sugane’s lips, he really  _is_  close. There’s heat, damp pressure slicking against the blond’s mouth, and it’s only when Jou pulls back and tips his head in consideration that Sugane realizes that was the other’s tongue tracing over his upper lip.

“I can’t taste any alcohol,” he says. He sounds contemplative, as if his eyes aren’t heavy with the same suggestion carried in the position of his fingers. “What about your tongue?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Sugane still whimpers in incoherent response, tip his head up in offer.

“Hm.” Jou shifts his weight, drops his hips lower against Sugane’s, and that’s agreement in itself, even before he leans in close to slide his tongue over Sugane’s. The blond can hear his purr of consideration, or maybe that’s appreciation, under the slow slip of Jou’s tongue tasting out the inside of his mouth. Sugane’s trembling, adrenaline and heat burning through his veins, and he thinks Jou is laughing against his mouth, he can feel the other man’s smile when their lips brush together.

“Yeah,” Jou says, finally, when Sugane’s shivering is running all through his body. He lets his weight press Sugane down to the floor, hard enough that his hip grinds in against the blond’s jeans and catches his breath short and sharp. His hand slides away from Sugane’s mouth, his thumb drawing warm damp down against the corner of the blond’s lips as he goes. “I guess you’re not that drunk after all.”

“Jou-san,” Sugane gasps, sounding shattered and wrecked, and Jou laughs and closes the last breath of distance between their mouths. The fingers bracing Sugane’s wrist let go, Jou’s hand comes down to the blond’s hip instead, and Sugane’s hand lifts up as if of its own accord, tangling into the other man’s hair as his head tips to fit their mouths together. His thoughts are floating apart and out of his control, Jou’s tongue is dipping in against his and slipping over his lips and there are fingers creeping up under Sugane’s shirt, brushing ticklish just against the blond’s ribcage so he jumps and squeaks against Jou’s mouth.

Jou laughs, pulls away just far enough that he can kiss just Sugane’s lower lip, can come in sideways and press his mouth warm into the blond’s bare shoulder. His hand is coming up higher and Sugane’s breathing faster, arching and panting with a reaction that has nothing at all to do with being ticklish. Jou’s hand is hot on his skin, Jou’s mouth is catching at his neck until he thinks to turn his head sideways and let the other man kiss against his hairline, press his lips into the soft skin just behind his ear that Sugane never thinks about.

“Do you just want to kiss?” Jou asks. Sugane’s head is humming with heat, it’s hard to even parse the other’s words, but there’s a tremble under the words, a suggestion and an unvoiced plea Sugane understands by empathy more than conscious thought.

“No,” he says without turning, so the angle of his head helps to cover the worst of his flush as he thinks about what he’s saying, what he’s  _suggesting_. “No. I want --” But intention can’t get the words past his throat, he can’t even entirely frame his desire into coherency beyond  _more_ , beyond the struggling arch of his back as he tries to push in harder against Jou’s touch.

It’s enough. Jou chuckles, the sound loud with proximity, and the hand at Sugane’s side slides down and under, fingers catching the small of his back and urging him closer, pressing him tighter against the other’s body until it’s very nearly enough.

“Me too,” Jou purrs, the words humming against Sugane’s skin and his hand sliding lower, until his fingertips are brushing against the top of the blond’s jeans and Sugane’s hips are entirely off the floor. There’s no question that Jou can feel how hard he is, Sugane realizes dimly; he’s pressed in against the other man’s stomach, the resistance blessed friction even if it’s nothing like enough, but Jou doesn’t comment on it aloud. There’s just a pull, a shift Sugane can’t even place for a moment, and then he’s coming upright, Jou’s pulling him up until he’s half on his knees, half in the other man’s lap.

Jou’s hand comes down from his shoulder, trails against the outside of the blond’s thigh. “Hold onto me,” he says, his voice so low and husky Sugane’s stomach swoops in reaction in the moment before he can gather himself to obey the urging of those fingers, slide his leg out from between Jou’s knees and around until he’s straddling the other man’s lap properly.  _That_  slots their bodies together, flushes Sugane hot with self-consciousness even  _before_  Jou purrs and rocks up so he can feel the unmistakable pressure of the other man’s erection against him as well, but Jou doesn’t give him enough time to panic. His mouth is back at Sugane’s neck, his tongue tracing idly over the dip between his collarbones, and while Sugane is choking on a shaky breath Jou’s hand curves under his leg to take his weight and they’re coming up, Jou getting to his feet and lifting Sugane off his at once. Sugane has to lean in sharply to keep his balance, twine his arms tight around Jou’s neck to hold on, and Jou chuckles against his skin, slides one arm around to wrap around Sugane’s waist and keep him in place.

“You’re so light,” he says, an observation rather than a criticism, as he starts moving them down the hallway. Sugane’s head is spinning more from adrenaline than from alcohol; he can feel the zipper of Jou’s jacket digging into the thin fabric of his shirt, can feel the heat of Jou’s breathing against his hair. It’s easiest to duck his head into Jou’s shoulder, to gulp a deep breath of air in a failing attempt to calm his racing heart and try to convince himself that this is real, this is  _happening_   _right now_.

It’s not very far to the bedroom, nothing like far enough for Sugane to catch his breath into reason before Jou’s supporting hand under his leg is moving away. Sugane takes the hint, slides down so he can stand on his own feet again, but Jou’s not letting him go entirely and there’s nowhere for him to go to move away, even if he wanted to. Jou is impossibly close, so near that when Sugane chances a glance up he can see all the details of the other man’s face, the red in the tangle of his dark hair and the damp caught at the edge of his smile, even the smudge of all-too human exhaustion collected under his eyes.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Jou says, leaning in closer so he is pressing the words against Sugane’s forehead. He lets his one-armed hold go but Sugane doesn’t move away, caught in place by the lips against his forehead while Jou’s fingers close on the frames of the oversized glasses he’s wearing to drag them free. The plastic drops forgotten to the floor as hands settle at Sugane’s shoulders, start to slide down his arms to push his oversized sweater off. The weight of the fabric draws the cloth down as soon as it’s free of the blond’s shoulders; it catches around Sugane’s wrists for a moment before he shakes his hands free to let it fall into a puddle on the ground. He’s still got his shirt on, he’s nothing  _like_  uncovered yet, but the awareness of Jou’s eyes on his bare arms draws at least as many of the goosebumps that flicker over Sugane’s skin as the faint chill of the air.

“You too,” Sugane manages. He’s having trouble meeting Jou’s continuing gaze -- it’s easier to look at the other man’s shoulder, to stare at the lopsided fall of his jacket -- but at least his voice sounds determined, if shaky. There’s a breath of a pause; then Jou drops his hands, pulls away to spread his arms in silent offering at his sides. When Sugane glances up at his face Jou is smiling, the expression drawn crooked on one side but lacking the teasing Sugane was afraid of. That helps, gives him the nerve to reach out to close his fingers on the pull of the jacket’s zipper, to drag the metal down in one quick motion. The fabric parts for him faster than he expected, the resistance almost nonexistent, and Jou’s moving as quickly as the jacket is falling open, shrugging the cover off so there’s nothing between his skin and Sugane’s fingers except for a thin black undershirt.

Sugane doesn’t think it through at all. There’s a part of his head trying to calculate, trying to process the situation and determine the best response, but he’s coming forward before it’s caught up, sliding his fingers in against Jou’s waist and pressing his face in against the other man’s shoulder. Jou’s skin is warm, hot, it’s radiant like a fire and Sugane can’t get close enough, even this isn’t enough, even when Jou’s arm curves around his back and the other man laughs into his hair.

“You’re wearing too much.” Jou’s pushing his shirt up, drawing the motion out so it feels more like he’s sliding his fingers across Sugane’s skin than he is trying to actually undress him. It makes Sugane shiver, persuades him to let his hold go so Jou can tug his shirt up and off his head. Jou’s is reaching for his own before Sugane can think it through, inverting the fabric in one quick motion gone graceful with habit, and then there’s  _far_  more skin in front of him than Sugane was ready for.

“Sugane.” Even his name sounds like magic in Jou’s voice, importance collecting from the purring shape of the vowels on Jou’s tongue until Sugane can barely recognize it as his own. “It’s okay.” Fingers brush over his collarbone and Sugane nearly jumps at the contact. “I’m here.”

Sugane lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, listens to it quiver itself onto the verge of panic in his throat. Jou’s mouth touches his forehead again, Jou’s lips press a kiss hot into his skin.

“Gimme a minute,” he says. Sugane’s skin goes cold in the absence of his touch as Jou steps back, but when he blinks his eyes back into focus to see Jou pulling the futon out to unroll it across the floor the wave of half-frightened anticipation is more than enough to make up for the loss. Sugane forgets, for a minute, that he’s in just jeans now, forgets all the tension of too-long spent waiting for exactly this. There’s just the heat under his skin, burning through his veins and startling his breath fast, so by the time Jou gets to his feet and comes back to collect him all Sugane’s bare skin is flushed pink and warm.

He doesn’t come in as close as he did before, stays far enough away that when Sugane tips his head up he can see Jou’s face as a whole instead of as component parts. But his fingers are warm and steady on Sugane’s wrist, as if this is all perfectly normal, and when he says “Come here,” it’s more of a comfort than an order. Sugane is moving already, responsive to the other man’s gentle tug before the words even hit. Following Jou’s lead comes so naturally it overrides his trembling nerves, grants him a moment of thoughtless ease as Jou’s fingers at his shoulder urge him down, as Jou’s continuing hold at his wrist persuades him to turn as he shifts from kneeling to sitting, until there’s the softness of the futon under one hand and the heat of Jou’s eyes when he tips his head up to see.

Jou drops to his knees, leans in closer, and Sugane doesn’t move away, doesn’t breathe or even blink as the other closes the distance between them. There’s a press of lips against his, slick and fast, and then pressure at his shoulder, Jou’s touch pushing him away and back until he drops flat on his back over the futon. The fingers drag down from his shoulder, a glide down over Sugane’s chest travelling so slowly the blond can feel himself start to flush again with the burn of self-consciousness in his veins.  
“You’re beautiful,” Jou says, so suddenly that any thought Sugane had in his head dies into stunned silence. He’s looking at the blond’s skin, not his face, and Sugane’s mouth is just forming around a whimper, an almost-protest or a reciprocated compliment, when Jou ducks his head. His hair skims Sugane’s chest, light and ticklish, and then his tongue is sliding against skin, dragging sensation so hot in its wake Sugane’s whimper turns into a moan, his hips come up off the futon in instinctive reach for something he can’t identify until Jou’s fingers press into the top edge of his jeans. Then realization comes, crystal-clear on  _what_  he wants and  _who_  he wants it from, and even the blush that awareness brings with it isn’t enough to so much as take the edge off the desperate arch of his hips.

“Let me take these off,” Jou says, his mouth skimming over Sugane’s stomach as he speaks. It’s as if he’s asking permission, or at least offering an option for Sugane to refuse. Sugane lets the possibility go by unacknowledged, lets his hands come up to trail through Jou’s hair, to push the dark strands back so he can see when Jou glances up, holds his gaze as he slides the button of Sugane’s jeans free and drags the zipper down. There’s nothing but shadows and suggestion in Jou’s eyes, it’s the same look Sugane had to avoid looking at directly in the bar for the heat it drags up to his skin. But he can’t look away now, he’s as caught by Jou’s eyes as by the continuing burn of lips on his skin, he doesn’t do more than shudder a breath as the other man pulls the denim off his hips and down his legs. He can’t take an inhale until Jou looks back down, ducks his head and slides away to kiss against the skin he’s just bared. Sugane’s boxers are doing nothing to cover his erection, but the first flush of embarrassed awareness vanishes under Jou’s lips at the inside of his thigh. When Jou hums Sugane whimpers, angles his legs wider without thinking at all, and Jou’s mouth comes higher, heat following in his wake while his fingers come back up to catch at the elastic of Sugane’s waistband.

Sugane doesn’t hear what Jou says, isn’t sure he’s intended to hear and can’t be certain the words are coherent at all. He can feel Jou’s mouth catching at his skin, the warmth of breath gusting across his leg -- then Jou’s pulling away with his mouth, and down with his fingers, and the last of Sugane’s clothes are sliding down his legs so there’s nothing left covering him at all. There’s a shift of cool air, enough to bring Sugane’s hips back flat to the futon as he processes  _exactly_  how hard he is and  _exactly_  how clear that is to Jou’s eyes, but Jou isn’t speaking, isn’t pulling away at all; he barely gets Sugane’s boxers half-off before his hands are moving, fingers closing hard at the blond’s hips and weighting him down flat. Sugane blinks, takes in the pressure on his skin and the way Jou is angling himself, and he’s just caught up with what the other man’s about to do when Jou sighs over him, his breath hot with intent, and slides his mouth down over Sugane’s length.

All the air in Sugane’s body rushes out of his lungs, the sound barely wrapped into a wailed “ _Jou-san_ ” as it slips past his lips. His hands are back in Jou’s hair; his fingers have tightened into fists without his intention, soft strands catching at his fingertips as Jou’s lips catch at sensitive skin. There’s a hum, a vibration that Sugane only barely registers as muffled laughter, and Jou opens his mouth wider, turns his head so he can slide his tongue up and over the head of Sugane’s cock. Sugane chokes, stutters an inhale -- and Jou’s pulling away, the heat of his mouth vanishing and the bracing hold of his hands going gentle.

“Why--?” Sugane starts, sounding breathless and feeling desperate, but Jou’s coming up over him, pressing a kiss into his shoulder before moving up higher, letting a hand go so he can pull his glove off with his teeth and stretch for something Sugane can’t see.

“Patience.” There’s the sound of objects moving, Jou’s pushing something aside, but Sugane is only just tipping his head up to look when the other is coming back, dipping his head to kiss the blond again. It’s quick, again, just a stop-off before he moves back down, but the rush of pleasure it sends skating down Sugane’s spine is enough to distract him while Jou pulls his boxers entirely free so he can push Sugane’s legs apart and come back down between them.

“I want to savor the moment,” Jou says, his hair brushing against Sugane’s leg as he shifts his weight. Sugane glances down, curiosity burning as hot in his veins as arousal, but looking down lets him see his own skin as clearly as he sees Jou tugging his other glove off, brings a surge of panicked self-consciousness that convinces him to drop back flat to the futon again and let go of Jou’s hair with one hand so he can angle an arm over his face. There’s another laugh, motion Sugane can’t identify as Jou shifts over him, but then his mouth is back, slow and warm and teasing and Sugane’s self-awareness is gone again, his entire world is tightening down until it’s just Jou, only the deliberate drag of lips and tongue over him, until Sugane doesn’t even hear how ragged his own breathing is going for his distraction.

When Jou pulls back Sugane sucks in a breath, comes back into himself enough to realize he’s making a fist of the futon under him, to process that one leg is angled up so he can arch himself at an incline that shouldn’t be comfortable out of desperation to get closer to Jou’s lips. There are fingers at his leg, though, cool and slick, and then Jou says, “Relax, Sugane,” and Sugane obeys, like he always obeys, with the same unflinching submission to Jou’s commands that he’s taught himself over years of hero-worship. Jou’s mouth is hovering over his hip with the promise of affection, and there are fingers sliding over his skin and Sugane’s never done this before, but this is Jou-san, after all, and Jou’s never let him down before.

It’s still startling. Sugane is relaxing because Jou told him to, and Jou’s hand is moving slowly and gently, but the first push of slick fingers against him still makes him jerk, draws his body tight in reflexive rejection of the intrusion. Jou’s mouth hits skin, he’s humming wordless comfort, and Sugane takes a deep breath, holds it, consciously wills his fingers loose on the futon and drops his hips flat with deliberate attention. He’s still not  _relaxed_ , not entirely -- he can feel the tension humming just under his skin -- but it’s enough, apparently, because after a moment Jou keeps going, slides one finger in farther. It’s too much heat, it’s prickling all over Sugane’s body in a wash of heat and cold in quick succession, and even his best efforts can’t stop the reflexive shaking in his legs and the tension curling his fingers into fists.

“It’s okay,” Jou is saying, and Sugane is  _trying_  to relax, trying to do this right, but he’s still on the verge of panic when Jou turns his head. He’s not moving his hand at all, there’s no increase in that uncanny sensation, and then his mouth is back, he’s breathing over Sugane’s length and touching the tip of his tongue to the blond’s skin, and Sugane’s next exhale sounds like a sigh of relief. Jou’s hand doesn’t shift, doesn’t pull away or push in farther, but his mouth is sliding lower, he’s sucking and licking and catching Sugane’s breath into rhythm with the movements of his head, and Sugane doesn’t even realize that he  _is_  relaxing, that the familiarity of pleasure is doing what force of will couldn’t, until Jou shifts his hand and it doesn’t hurt, doesn’t even feel all that bad. It’s still  _weird_  but the slip of almost-friction over his cock is worth a lot, keeps him breathless and distracted even as Jou’s palm hits skin, as the pressure shifts to push in against Sugane deliberately. Jou’s mouth slides up, Sugane shifts under the sensation -- and there’s a rush of pleasure, wholly unfamiliar sensation knocking his breathing into a sound more a wail than a moan, dropping his body shaky and shocked against the futon.

Jou pulls his mouth away, flicks his head in reflexive motion to swing his hair back from his eyes. “There?” He moves his hand and there it is again, it’s like a wave of heat radiating out from his fingertip. This time Sugane jerks, gasps for air, and Jou’s free hand lands on his hip, pushes him back and holds him in place while the other man draws his hand back.

“Sugane,” he says again, “Relax,” but he’s pushing back in, he’s finding exactly the right spot with perfect precision, and Sugane can’t deliberately do  _anything_  other than stutter inhales and let the heat pour out over his skin. There’s a moment of respite as Jou draws his hand back, leaving Sugane feeling empty and achy with want -- then the pressure’s back, more this time, sharp on the edge of pain before the fingers inside Sugane touch that spot again and everything else drops into the background. Sugane doesn’t realize how audible his breathing is going, doesn’t process the sharp almost-whine of each inhale, and then Jou’s tongue touches him again and need grants him brief coherency.

“ _Jou-san_.” He sounds like he’s pleading, for less or more, he’s not sure which. “I --  _please_.” He can feel Jou’s laugh, the faint vibration humming against the other man’s lips, and the heat of his mouth pulls away, Jou straightens so he’s sitting up over his knees.

“Almost,” he soothes, his voice still smooth for all that it’s nothing but hot shadows now. “One more.” Sugane doesn’t realize what he’s talking about for a minute, before Jou lets his hip go in favor of pushing his knees a little wider as he draws his other hand back. There’s another push, a third finger still air-cool instead of warm from Sugane’s body; the distinction makes Sugane flush, starts to catch him taut with pointless nerves, but then Jou’s sliding into him again, slow and steady, and his limbs relax in expectation of that flaring heat. It’s faster this time, smoother and easier in spite of the extra pressure, and the additional push sends all of Sugane’s attention shattering away when Jou’s fingers touch against him.

He’s trying to say Jou’s name when he opens his mouth. Sugane has no idea that it’s going to come out as a whimper, that the reflexive jerk of his hips is going to control his throat more than his intention. Jou chuckles, the sound humming through Sugane like a touch, and slides his hand back and away. Sugane wills his hands to relax, catches a breath and shuts his eyes so he can listen to the sound of Jou getting to his feet and moving away. The air feels colder, now, chilling off the feverish edge of heat clinging to Sugane’s skin. There’s the rustle of clothes, the faint sound of footsteps, a crinkle of foil; Sugane keeps his eyes shut, lets his imagination feel out the shape of reality in the darkness, form the pattern of events from the input of his other senses.

Then there’s a catch of breathing, and it’s not his own, and Sugane  _can’t_  not look up for that. He’s pushing up onto his elbows, opening his eyes in a rush of impulsive adrenaline, and he’s sitting up just as Jou’s shoulders shudder with adrenaline, as the other man’s eyes fall shut in response to the press of his fingers against himself as he slides a condom on. Sugane’s eyes fall to the motion of Jou’s fingers, trace out the bare skin and the hard shape of the other man, and he’s blushing but he’s whimpering too, desperate unworded pleas surging up his throat and drawing Jou’s eyes back to him. When Sugane glances up at his face Jou’s mouth is twisted into the not-quite smile he takes when he’s trying to fight back amusement, the frown of determination to not laugh on his lips. His fingers are still moving, stroking over himself idly, but Sugane’s attention is caught by the heat in his eyes, the way Jou looks like he can’t open his eyes all the way without being blinded by looking at the other, and then he’s letting go, leaning in so his shoulder bumps Sugane’s.

“Lie back,” and it’s all smoke and shadow, as if Sugane can hear the scratch of past-tense cigarettes on Jou’s voice. He goes, and Jou follows, staying close enough Sugane can feel the speeding of his breathing, can feel the anticipation of maybe-a-kiss tingling over his mouth. Jou’s hand comes down over his shoulder, wrist just bumping the top of Sugane’s shoulder; then there are fingers at the blond’s thigh, urging his leg higher, and Sugane has a sudden sharp awareness that  _now_ , this is really about to happen, and he has to reach out for stability, has to clutch at Jou’s shoulder and hair even before the other man has moved.

Jou stops what he’s doing. Some of the heat fades from his eyes, his expression slips back into recognizable familiarity again. “Sugane?” He’s leaning in closer, his lips brushing the very corner of Sugane’s mouth so the blond sighs and has to shut his eyes for a moment to collect himself. “Are you okay?”

There’s real concern under the words, subtle as Jou’s emotion always is but there, unmistakable to someone who has spent years watching him. Jou’s hand is high on Sugane’s thigh and, god, he’s  _right there_ , when Sugane shifts his hips he can brush against Jou’s length so they both suck in a sharp breath of air. And it’s still on Sugane’s tongue, the deciding word after they’ve come all this way, when they’re  _so close_.

It’s almost funny, that Jou has any doubt in his head at all about what Sugane’s answer will be.

“Jou-san.” Sugane’s voice is clear, a little high and a little breathless at the edges but remarkably steady on the words. “ _Please_.”

He can’t put words to what he wants -- there’s too much, or it’s too simple, he’s not sure which -- but the plea is enough. He can feel Jou’s frown of concentration break into the faint smile that means sincerity, can feel the fingers at his skin shift into a caress instead of a hold; then Jou takes a breath, and Sugane’s skin flushes warm with expectation, and the other man slowly pushes forward. There’s heat, pressure, the threat of pain; then Sugane relaxes, and Jou slides into him, and they’re  _together_ , it’s different and warmer and better than Sugane imagined. The sensation is strange, different than Jou’s fingers, hotter and thicker but Jou’s shuddering in reaction and he’s not come all the way forward yet, and Sugane doesn’t know if the heat washing over his skin is from his own sensation or Jou’s gasping inhales, and it doesn’t really matter anyway. Jou’s hand on his skin is desperate, like he’s trying to hold himself steady, but Sugane’s legs are shaking and he’s certain he can’t offer any stability to himself, much less to Jou. He’s still pushing forward, farther than Sugane expects, and it’s all too much, the fingers on his leg and the bracing arm just at his shoulder and the feel of Jou sliding deeper into him. Sugane has to shut his eyes, has to gasp for air and cling to Jou’s shoulder, and then Jou’s stopped moving and his hand is letting go, dropping in against the blond’s hip instead so Sugane can feel how heavy his fingers have gone with the weight of his distraction.

“Sugane.” There’s a little rocking movement of Jou’s hips, as if he’s trying to get farther, reflexive and futile because he’s  _there_ , he’s pressed up as close as he can possibly get. “Sugane, open your eyes?”

It’s a request instead of an order but Sugane obeys anyway, blinks his vision back even though he’s not taking in any sort of coherent input, just bits and pieces, like the color in the hair falling over Jou’s neck and the curve of his shoulder as he braces himself up and pulls away to look down at the blond.

“Jou-san,” he hears his voice, and it’s purring, it sounds warm and languid with all the intensity surging under his skin. Jou shivers and Sugane can feel the movement all through his body, as if they’re sharing one existence in this instant. The other man’s eyelashes flutter, his tongue catches at his lower lip; then he’s leaning down, his mouth stealing what little coherency Sugane still has left. The contact lingers, there’s a touch of damp as Jou’s tongue barely skims into Sugane’s mouth, and he’s moving, drawing back and slowly coming forward again. Sugane whimpers at the friction but the sound is lost to Jou’s lips, drowned out by the drag of his breathing, and he’s moving faster, now, increasing the pace of his rhythmic motions until Sugane’s not sure they’re even kissing, anymore, as much as just desperately gasping at each other’s air. The fingers at his hip draw sideways, oddly gentle for how strained Jou’s supporting arm is and the strength behind the motion of his hips, and Sugane’s arching up, angling for the contact he knows is coming even before it gets there. Jou laughs, the breathless amusement actually pulling their mouths apart as his hand closes over the blond’s length.

Jou’s stroke is slow, deliberate and considering, but it doesn’t matter. Sugane’s aching for the touch, so hard he isn’t sure he couldn’t come just from the press of Jou leaning in an inch closer, and the pull of Jou’s hand over him is enough to wash out all his conscious awareness entirely. His head tips back, he makes a sound that is intended as a gasp and comes out as a moan, and when he arches up sharply Jou’s moving faster, sliding his fingers over the blond and thrusting forward hard enough that Sugane shifts back an inch, that his shoulder hits Jou’s arm and braces there. He’s desperate for more, faster; one foot is braced against Jou’s knee and he’s hooking the other around the other man’s hip, drawing himself up off the futon to press in closer, higher, reaching for the satisfaction pulling so achingly close. Then Jou rocks his hips forward, slides into the blond at just the right angle, and Sugane’s  _there_. There’s a flare of the same heat as earlier, the overwhelming sense of drowning in sensation; for a breathless moment Sugane is right at the edge, hovering in anticipation and wondering if that will be enough on its own. Then Jou’s hand jerks over him and he’s falling, he’s gasping and shaking and coming over his stomach and over Jou’s fingers and he can’t speak, he can’t breathe and doesn’t know why he would need to, there’s only the warm white of pleasure rushing through him.

“ _God_ ,” Jou’s saying when Sugane’s awareness recollects itself inside his skin, as the first wave of sensation fades into warm relaxation. His eyes are wide, he’s staring at Sugane like he’s something magical, and in the bright glow of satisfaction Sugane can’t even muster the energy to be embarrassed about it. He’s smiling, dreamy and unthinking, so when Jou leans in to kiss him again his lips catch Sugane’s lip instead of his mouth properly, and even that just makes him laugh, the sound as shaky in his throat as Jou’s breathing is against his lips. Jou doesn’t lean away again, just drops in lower so he can press his face against Sugane’s neck so his breath comes hot over the blond’s skin as he lets Sugane go to replace his hold at the other’s hip. Sugane lets his fingers relax, slides his fingers down against Jou’s spine to catch at the faint sheen of sweat collecting there, and Jou shudders against him, his motions go sharp and convulsive with instinct; his hand jerks tight on Sugane’s skin, his hips come forward, and when he groans “ _Sugane_ ” it’s hot enough to send an entire second flutter of heat across Sugane’s skin.

Jou doesn’t move away after, either. He shifts his weight, adjusts so he can fall alongside Sugane instead of atop him, but he’s reaching out for the blond’s shoulder to drag him back before Sugane can even get traction on self-doubt about whether to stay or pull away. Jou’s skin is damp and salty against his, Sugane’s arm is pinned in awkwardly under his hip, and they’re both sticky, the shared body heat is starting to become uncomfortable without the distraction of motion. Sugane still doesn’t want to move. His forehead is against Jou’s collarbone, his other arm is draped around the other man’s waist so his fingers can press into the pattern of Jou’s spine, and he can feel how slow Jou is breathing. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jou this relaxed, ever.

“You should stay.” Jou’s voice is slow, dragging, heavy with sleep and warm with pleasure.

Sugane startles at the suggestion, starts to smile even before he shakes his head in necessary refusal. “I can’t, Jou-san, I have class tomorrow.”

“Mmm.” Jou pulls him closer, presses his chin against the top of Sugane’s head. “I guess I’ll have to clean you up and take you home then.”

He makes no sign of moving, in spite of his words. Sugane waits for a breath, another, a minute, before he asks, “Jou-san?” wondering if maybe the other man has fallen asleep after all.

There’s a chuckle, another tug as if attempting to drag him impossibly closer. “Not yet.” Sugane can feel the vibration of Jou’s voice in his chest, like it’s a sensation as much as a sound. “Soon.”

Sugane doubts that they will actually move in anything that could reasonably be called ‘soon.’ But he’s not going to protest, not when he has Jou’s skin warm against his and the other man’s arm heavy around his shoulders.

There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, after all.


End file.
